


The Confession

by alisonchains



Category: Soundgarden (Band)
Genre: Other, Religion, Religious Content, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 21:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18432170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisonchains/pseuds/alisonchains
Summary: A Chris Cornell one shot done in the spur of the moment and written in such a way that the narration can be literally of any gender. Paying homage to growing up religious, too.





	The Confession

**Author's Note:**

> This was one I wrote inside of my mind at about five o'clock this morning: I was laying awake with an achy shoulder and it just fell into my head suffice to say. Usually, when I'm laying awake, I write poetry inside my head and if it's good, I'll get up and write it down real quick. But this came out in the form of a short story instead.

All I recall seeing was the high rafters rising far over our bodies, the glimmers of the chandelier overhead, and the stained glass windows of amber and magenta surrounding each side of the Madonna, with Christ the Lord welcoming us with his wide lovely arms. Candles were burning, and the high preacher's podium stood tall at the front of the vast room. I could still hear the prayers being sung in the echoes around us as Chris and I bowed our heads before the massive wooden cross before the main windows at the front of the room.  
I may have started it as I lay a hand on his sinewy thigh and he showed me the silvery cross pendant around his neck. The phantom limb of the congregation surrounded us as I beckoned him down towards the base of the pew bench next to me.  
The wood beneath us stayed hard pressed against the base of my spine, and soon I had removed my jeans for him. He had initially pressed his lips to my neck and soon I fell back even further and even deeper. He caressed my thighs with his soft lips and all the while reached up to touch me with his firm, strong hands. The feel of his smooth skin upon my stomach and then over my chest; he was my master and I was his slave at that moment. Surely, I was in disbelief, and I was to be smote by the Lord himself for such an act in a house of his name.  
But those fresh tendrils of coal black waves caressed over my face and neck. That bristly mustache brushing upon my skin and my lips. Those eyes searing into my soul through the darkness, pulsating against me with each and every movement. I needed to breathe, and the pressure was building from the inside of my hips towards the bottom of my spine, and the electric waves surged throughout my whole being, but he assured me that there indeed was a way, right there under the Lord's eyes, in the vein of Adam and Lilith, and up above the burial clouds, to find a way out of redemption. There should be a sugar skull on my head, a line betwixt my eyes, and an orchid between my legs, but instead there is only him, breathing and swaying closer and closer unto me.  
I knew I had won myself a ticket to hell but the ride there was to be laden with the feel of his chest against my body and a single sheet of fabric between our legs. May our tombs not bear our faces upon the moment of finishing.  
I fell in feet first into his insatiable appetite and towards the feel of his gravity, until my body contorted against the feel of his warm flesh, and all of my muscles relaxed and softened like the strands of pasta cooking in a warm water bath. Soon, I became one with him and we became one with Sol and with the Madonna over our heads.  
His flesh haunts me even after leaving into the night as far from God as the eye could see from here. I walked into the shadows to catch up with him, but the shadows swept like a thief in the night. I was alone, on the steep marble step, a Mary Magdelene without a place to rest my hair or my crown of thorns. I thence came to the booth when the time bode right for me.  
And thus bless me, Father, for I have sinned and therefore I must repent. May I burn down straight to hell for the feral act in a house of worship. May the windows shut out the daylight for my meekness. May I be punished for my sins but I beg of you to bestow me with forgiveness and the congregation to welcome me with open arms once again.  
But alas, the main sin I must confess is not the act. There must be, Father, forgiveness for bearing no regrets, for laying upon the wood and letting him kiss me with the kisses on his mouth. Surely, Father, there must be forgiveness for extracting regrets from my soul.


End file.
